After 158 years, perhaps a symbol of genocide and oppression might not be the best choice?

Minnesota decides it's time to come up with a new state flag

Minnesota’s state flag has been used since the North Star State achieved statehood in 1858. (Erica Dischino for The New York Times)

Jesse Ventura is basically proof that the people of Minnesota are not social drinkers- they’re alcoholics.

• Lewis Black

I was an English major at the University of Minnesota, and I was very shy, which many people interpreted as intelligence. On the basis of the wrong impression, I became the editor of the campus literary magazine.

• Garrison Keillor

I was born in Chicago but grew up in northern Minnesota, went to high school in central Minnesota, and to college at Macalester College in St. Paul. I lived in Minnesota from the ages of two through 23, so I can safely say I am who I am today primarily because I grew up in The Great White North- the Land of the Few, the Brave, and the Frozen.

It was the land of frozen lakes, ice sculptures at St. Paul’s Winter Carnival, the International 500 snowmobile race between Winnipeg, Manitoba, and St. Paul, and Dick Guindon’s cartoons in the Minneapolis StarTribune lampooning Minnesotans and their ability to laugh at winter.

I could regale you with stories of ice fishing, racing stock cars on frozen lakes, or the day it hit -54 degrees, but for those who’ve never been through a Minnesota winter…well, there are no words to do the experience justice. Until your eyebrows and/or beard have grown icicles, you’re a rookie when it comes to winter.

But that doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to repeat any of those experiences. I’m better for having had them, but I’ve made it clear to my family in Minnesota that while I’m happy to visit, it just won’t be between November 1-March 31st. I’ve done my time on the frozen tundra.

While I try to follow events in the state I grew up in, I’ve lost touch. When I go back to visit, usually about three or four times a year, it feels precisely the same but completely different. That's understandable, given that it’s been 40 years since I moved to Portland. I still know my way around, but Minneapolis-St. Paul isn’t the same place I remember, which is probably a good thing.

What sparked this bout of reminiscing was an article in the New York Times about the state of Minnesota deciding that it was time to come up with a new, more inclusive flag design. I admit to being quite surprised by this because I’ve never given the Minnesota state flag more than a moment’s thought. It was always a blue background with a busy blue circle in the center. I don’t know that I’d ever bothered to look at what was happening in that circle. Now that I have, I can understand why Native Americans around the state have long hated the flag.

The only thing I ever took away from Minnesota’s state flag was the motto- L’ Etoile du Nord, The Star of the North. Yes, Minnesota was always called the North Star State, and for the longest time, our National Hockey League team (whom I adored) was the Minnesota North Stars (before they moved to Dallas, TX) in 1993.

I remember my father telling me that he once sat next to North Stars goalkeeper Gump Worsley (end of the first row in the above photo) on a flight. He could’ve told me the entire Swedish bikini team sat on his lap naked, and I wouldn’t have been more impressed.

Ah, but I digress….

The Minnesota state flag isn’t an artistic masterpiece, but it's utilitarian like so much of the state. Minnesotans tend not to want to change things for the sake of change, so the flag has lasted because…well, it wasn’t good, but it was certainly good enough. And we had other, bigger things to worry about, like

WHEN WILL THE VIKINGS WIN A SUPER BOWL??

Ask Minnesotans about the state’s official flag, and prepare for a crush of critiques.

Start with legibility. Viewed from afar, it is difficult to make sense of the jumble of dates, stars and the state slogan, in French, which rings the centerpiece image.

Aesthetically, it is, well, not a marvel, many a Minnesotan will tell you, with Midwestern restraint.

Zoom in on the scene depicted at the core, which happens to be the state seal, to understand why a lawmaker who led the latest effort to retire the flag calls it “a cluttered genocidal mess.”

And that’s what I’d never noticed before…" a cluttered genocidal mess?” That seemed a little strong to me, but as a White person, I suppose I’d never had cause nor reason to concern myself with the imagery.

To a Native American, though….

In the foreground is a pioneer using a plow next to a tree stump, which features a rifle and an ax. Behind him is a Native American man on horseback, spear in hand, riding beside a sunset.

“It’s literally a Native person being driven off their land,” said Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan, a Democrat, who is a member of the White Earth Band of Ojibwe and has refused, on principle, to use the state flag or seal in official correspondence and paperwork. “It’s horrific.”

Within months, it will likely become a relic.

A commission the State Legislature appointed this year to design a new flag recently unveiled six finalists after considering more than 2,100 submissions. The commission also solicited sketches for a new seal, and earlier this week selected a finalist, which features a loon, the state bird. The current seal was adopted in 1858, the year Minnesota became a state.

As I said, it wasn’t good, but it was certainly good enough…for White folks who benefited from chasing the natives off their land, I suppose. But that wasn’t the sort of thing taught when I was in school in Minnesota.

Sure, we learned that Walker, the small town on the south shore of Leech Lake where I grew up, was the site of the last armed battle between a Native American tribe and the US Army. But we were never taught about the 1918 fires (The Cloquet Fire) that ravaged the northeastern part of the state during the Spanish influenza pandemic, just as WWI was winding down.

There were some serious gaps in the Minnesota history we were taught, most of it having to do with how the Native Americans were treated. That’s easy to understand, given that the history of that time doesn’t reflect well on White folks.

The closely watched and much-debated contest for a new flag and seal has been at once a soul-searching exercise for Minnesotans and an effort to spruce up the image of a state known for plentiful lakes, cruel winters and supersized annual summer fair.

“We’re dealing with ostensibly six million or so different opinions about what constitutes home and distilling the concept of home for that many different people,” said Todd Pitman, 39, a graphic designer who, along with his father, sketched one of the designs that is a final contender. “That’s a task.”

The plan to replace the flag has faced a measure of resistance. Some lawmakers have asserted that the scene in the seal should not be construed as racist. Farmers have voiced concern that the new designs fail to pay homage to the state’s agriculture sector.

The State Emblems Redesign Commission, which is chaired by the Minneapolis-based artist Luis Fitch, provided detailed guidance for submissions. Entries needed to be simple, easy to recognize, free of lettering and “represent Minnesota’s enduring values and aspirations, emphasizing inclusivity and unity.”

Minnesotans, known for civic engagement, produced more than 2,600 submissions.

Say what you will, but even though Minnesotans have an often-well-deserved reputation for reticence, they aren’t short of opinions and, when called upon, aren’t afraid to share them. Voter turnout is typically higher in the North Star State than in most other states. When it came to ideas and opinions about a new state flag, there were more than a few, especially since the current flag is 165 years old and reflects a not-so-very-inclusive version of Minnesota's history.

The challenge, of course, is to create something inclusive while also recognizing what Minnesota is known for. It’s a long list and includes things like agriculture, winter, loons, Native Americans, acceptance, and tolerance (Minnesota is among the most accepting of transgender people in particular and the LGBTQ community in general).

How to include all of that worthwhile sentiment in a piece of cloth?

Sarah Agaton Howes, 47, an artist from the Fond du Lac Reservation in northern Minnesota, said she appreciated the humor and chatter the flag overhaul has sparked. But she said she sketched her design — which is among the finalists — with a heavy heart. Her children, she said in an interview, recoil at the sight of the current flag.

“Pledging allegiance to a flag that has hurt us is not something I’m willing to do,” she said. “Those images and what they trigger in our memory is really powerful.”

Since the finalists were unveiled in November, members of the flag redesign commission have received more than 15,000 comments, and debate about the designs has raged online. The commission must submit a finalist to the governor and Legislature by Jan. 1. The new flag is expected to make its debut on May 11, Minnesota’s 166th birthday, unless state legislators object.

The commission has just over two weeks to make a decision. Each of the six finalists has merit, but my favorite is this one:

Artistically, it speaks to me more than the other five finalists, but I’d be OK with any of them. After 158 years, it’s time for a change, and it’s time to retire a symbol that a portion of the population sees as celebrating oppression and genocide.

I never saw that in my years in Minnesota, but it’s interesting what happens when you look at something through someone else’s eyes. Though I still may not see what they do in the way they do, I respect their point of view. That seems sufficient reason to consider retiring the current flag and creating something more inclusive.

I admire the state I’m proud to have grown up in for undertaking this process and asking everyone in Minnesota who wanted to have a voice to chime in. That’s one of the things I love about Minnesota. It’s still a ground-up democracy.

I have no desire to ever live in Minnesota again, but that’s due to the winters. I love the Twin Cities and enjoy my visits when I return to see my family. I am who I am because of the values I learned in Minnesota. I learned “Minnesota Nice,” and I still try to live that. It’s a real thing, and I love it.

Yeah, it could be worse. You could be in Green Bay.

I miss eating walleye and the meat raffles at bars in northern Minnesota. And if there were a way I could ride a snowmobile without the snow and cold, I’d do it. Unfortunately, one requires the other, so I’m out of luck, but I miss taking a snowmobile out onto a frozen lake, opening up the throttle, and seeing if I can hit 65-70 MPH. It’s a thrill you can’t experience in Palm Springs.

It took me a long time to be proud of where I’m from. Now that I’ve managed to get there, I’m proud of myself for reaching that point. Home will always be Portland, but Minnesota will always be where I’m from…and it feels good to say that.

I’m looking forward to the next chapter in my home state’s history.

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